I'm dreaming that i'm in the narrow passageway of a submarine.
It's warmed with heat of uranium decay.
Our goal is the north pole,
Under its ice there are barrels of money,
So precious, that death of Polar Bears
Is just the action of self-immolation.
And all I want is to stay in my cabin
To immerse into the memories of childhood
Of me playing with a broken bottle
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